


Nothing To You

by NotThatSpooky



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Body Horror, F/M, Tentacles, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 19:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11470626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotThatSpooky/pseuds/NotThatSpooky
Summary: Demencia knows she’s just being used as a means to satisfy Black Hat’s occasional, uncontrollable lust. But she doesn’t care. She loves him more than anything or anyone. And that makes it all worth it. Besides, if she gives him what he wants, maybe one day he’ll finally return her feelings.





	Nothing To You

_“You were like a dream 'cause you never came true / You said it all meant nothing to you.” - The Birthday Massacre (All Of Nothing)_  

* * *

 She loved him more than anything. More than causing mischief, more than rearranging a hero's face with a mace, more than the sound of her guitar blaring at full blast, and certainly, most importantly, more than herself.

He made her, after all. She owed him. True, Dr. Flug may have done the actual work of splicing her human DNA with a lizard's, but it was Black Hat's idea. Probably.

She was nothing before him. Just your everyday, good-for-nothing, bright-haired punk. But now? Now, she was someone. Now, she was gifted far beyond that of any normal human.

She had superhuman strength, endurance, eyesight, and could climb sheer walls with ease. Sure, she had an appetite for some things most would consider at best unsavory, but that was such a minor drawback compared to her abilities.

She'd admired Black Hat and his infamy long before they'd ever met. But when he'd found her and brought her into his fold, she was reborn and made anew. And for that, she loved him more than anything.

And that meant she would give him anything. She would give him the world if he wanted it. She would fight every hero on Earth barehanded if he wanted it. She would lay down her own life if he wanted it. But he never asked for that. In fact, most of the time, he didn't ask for anything. Most of the time, he was scolding her, messing with her, or just ignoring her.

But that was fine. 

It didn’t matter. Because sometimes, sometimes he'd smile for her or praise her for a job well done.

And rarer still, once in a blue moon, he would ask for something in particular. Something she kept just for him. He never told her to, but ever since that first time, she was unwilling to share it with anyone else. It just didn't feel right. It belonged to him now.  _She_  belonged to him now. That's just the way it was.

-

“Demencia,” he called to her the way he always did when the time came. His voice just a hush lower than normal. She'd learned to recognize it after a while.

She bobbed over to him, her mouth set into an eager grin.

“Yeeees, Black Hat?” she replied with her hands clasping each other as though one or the other might try to escape.

He watched her hopping from one foot to the next, his eyes bouncing with her.

“Stop that,” he said coolly, and she did her best to contain her excitement. Black Hat was almost sure she started vibrating. “Come on. Let's get this over with.”

He turned away towards the door, and with the tiniest jerk of his finger, he beckoned her along.

“Flug! 5.0.5!” he yelled behind him, “I have some business to take care of with Demencia. Keep everything in order while we're gone. And don't call for me unless it's an emergency!”

“Of course, sir,” Dr. Flug droned, entrenched in his work, and the blue bear beside him grunted to echo the affirmation.

“Oh, and 5.0.5, have dinner ready by the time we're finished.”

This caught them by no surprise. While Dr. Flug had found it suspicious the first time his boss intentionally spent time alone with Demencia, he'd since gotten used to it. Normally, Black Hat seemed to more or less tolerate her, but he knew whatever the purpose of their “business” was was probably necessary. Still, he did wonder, and admittedly his suspicions did sometimes drift to the scandalous. But he was just happy this meant he'd have a few hours of productive peace and no one to order him around.

Black Hat and Demencia left the lab and he led her through several winding halls and stairs within the manor. Despite her giddiness, she kept her mouth shut as they walked. She knew better by now.

Demencia stared at the spats on his shoes as he walked. She timed the pace of his steps and matched the length of his stride. Her eyes roved up his legs to his gloved fists, and up the length of his trench coat to his pointed collar, to the featureless back of his head, and to the red ribbon around his top hat. She took in everything. For everything about him was marvelous to her. The way he moved, the way he dressed, the way he spoke, the way he smiled...

She ignored the gloomy halls around them. While she fully supported her boss's dark, even brooding aesthetic, she would've preferred the inclusion of at least some brighter colors.

Eventually, they reached an unassuming door like all the others around them. Black Hat gestured her in, to a familiar bedroom that was neither his nor hers. In truth, the manor had far more rooms than Black Hat knew what to do with. This was one such room, but rather than leave it empty, he simply turned it into one of many – and unnecessary -- guest rooms; Black Hat hated overnight guests.

Most of these rooms were laid out roughly the same with only slight variations in décor. This one housed a large canopy bed, a tiger skin rug, a couple of antique dressers with a matching wall mirror, a painting he didn't know what else to do with, and a dracaena plant kept alive only by 5.0.5's diligence for housework.  

Demencia went in, but not before presenting him with a playful curtsy.

“Such a gentleman,” she teased him with a giggle.

He rolled his eyes and shut the door behind them. While he knew it was largely pointless, he made sure to lock it with a key he'd summoned out of thin air.

Demencia pounced on to the bed and sat down cross-legged while she awaited further direction. Black Hat let out a deep breath and turned to see his companion beaming at him.

He offered a hollow smile as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

“Lie down,” he said, and she did, still flashing her strangely pointed canines at him.

“Can I take off your coat this time?” she asked.

He hesitated, a look of confusion flashing across his face, but he conceded.

“Very well.”

She squealed lightly and got up, taking a breath to savor this moment. Once she'd prepared herself, she brushed her hands over the collar's fabric before pushing it gently away from his shoulders. He helped her by wriggling out of it and she was entranced by the way his torso moved. She slid the coat down over his arms and he got up then, facing away from her, so she could pull it the rest of the way off.

She marveled at the dress shirt underneath, flush with his lean muscles

It was rare for any of the employees to see Black Hat without his trench-coat. Even this was precious to her.

Black Hat took the coat from her and laid it on the nearest dresser.

“Happy?” he asked.

“Mmhmm!”

“Good. Now...” he pointed a finger down without bothering to finish his thought aloud. She already knew, and lied back down.

He took his place beside Demencia again and leaned towards her, supporting himself with a hand on either side of her as he slowly, almost reluctantly, drew his legs onto the bed and hovered over her. With anticipation nearly bursting from her, she gazed up into his visible eye and at the monocle hiding the other. He returned her gaze, but his was empty of any visible feeling. At first. Until the hunger he'd been suppressing started to claw its way to the surface.

_'I love you! I love you so much!'_  she thought. And though he was no mind reader, he knew it. He could see it.

But he didn't care.

Without a word, he lowered himself, like a lion readying to pounce on its prey. A gloved hand moved to the top of her head, which he graced gently at first. Then as his lips crashed into hers, the softness of his touch turned hard. He ripped the ever-present lizard-head hood off of her and threw it across the room behind him.

He almost wanted to apologize for this.

The rest of her top was easy. His other hand clawed for the zipper pull and he nearly ripped that off as well. He kept a grip on her impractically long hair, pulling it taut so her head was forced back and her neck exposed.

Black Hat pressed his fingers into the skin of her neck, and trembled as he did.

“It's ok,” reassured Demencia, mistaking his shaking as some kind of fear for her well-being. In all reality, he felt no fear. Only hunger and a deep, unbearable need. He was doing everything in his power not to kill her. But the ability to say so was beyond him.

He closed his fingers tighter around her neck as they turned into claws. Her face quickly turned red and soon purple, but she made no attempt to stop him.

He needed more.

His hand ventured down over her collarbone and to her chest. Despite his gloves, he could feel how soft her pale skin was. His teeth found her neck, which he nipped at first, then like a bear trap, he clamped down.

Demencia hissed at the pain, but it quickly fused into a sigh.

Sliding under her bra, he gripped one of her breasts, alternating between massaging the supple flesh with his palm and digging into it with his inhuman talons. She moaned at both techniques.

His mouth was filling with her blood as he bit down in more and more places. And while it gave him no nourishment, it would be a lie to say he didn't enjoy the taste.

It wasn't long before Demencia's neck and shoulders were covered in deep wounds and painted scarlet.

Black Hat dragged his long, forked tongue over the wounds, his saliva diluting the color. He was breathing heavily now, and he realized he was grinding his hips against her.

“Please, Black Hat,” Demencia moaned softly. She wasn't supposed to talk during this part, but she couldn't help it. And usually Black Hat didn't have the self-control to do anything about it anyway.

He released his grip on her hair and with his stained teeth, gave her a broad, face-splitting grin.

A few sets of gnashing teeth and wide, threatening eyes had appeared on his body and clothes. Writhing tentacles of varying shapes and sizes haloed him.

Black Hat grabbed her by her exposed waist and flipped her onto her stomach. Somehow the fact that she was still mostly clothed enraged him. With his hands and his new, wriggling appendages, he tore off every article of clothing left, from her mismatched gloves and socks, to her skirt and bra.

All that was left was a simple black thong. And while the tentacles tried to grapple for that as well, anytime they got close, they hesitated and pulled back.

It would be so easy to lose control. But despite the effort it took him not to invade every orifice on her body this instant, Black Hat wanted to soak this in. Instead, he directed the antsy tentacles to coil around Demencia's throat and wrists. They alternated between tightening and relaxing their hold. Some leaked a strange green fluid on her.

Black Hat pressed his crotch to the swell of her backside. He grabbed her by the chin and forced her head to the side so he could see her face.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mustered with obvious effort, taunting her, though he knew she wouldn't interpret it that way. It was a risk for him to speak since it only further drained his control.

She tried to respond, but a tentacle choked any sound out of her before it could leave her throat. All she could do was smile.

Black Hat laughed at this. It was a low, guttural noise without an inkling of kindness or good intentions. And then, only then, he let loose.

The remaining tentacles tore off her last bit of clothing with ease and started wrapping around her thighs. One made for her mouth, and she made no effort to resist as it thrust to the back of her tongue and made her gag. She wondered if it felt good to him.

He didn't bother to undo his pants. There was no need. The material at his crotch instead shifted away, replaced by a thick and clearly inhuman cock surrounded by a few more, albeit shorter tentacles.

He wasted no time. With one hand pinning her head down, he raised her hips with the other and forced his way into her awaiting, dripping cunt. She made a noise like a muffled yelp as he did. Black Hat shivered and his eyes nearly rolled back into their sockets.

He always forgot how good this felt. But as much as he wanted to make this last, he didn't have the strength to hold back. He thrust as deep and as far as he could -- all the way in and all the way out.

Some of the tentacles holding Demencia down started gnawing at her flesh with their own teeth, dotting her with fresh, crescent marks. The longer their master went on, the harder they bit. Black Hat helped them by carving deep grooves into her back as he thrust into her. By now, Demencia was moaning in time.

One of the appendages by his cock began to maneuver its way up to her ass, and once it found what it was looking for, deftly parted and entered the tight hole without preamble.

Her moaning heightened in pitch to a stuttering scream and she didn't stop. The tentacles grew more and more eager, seeming to lose any sense of objective as they climbed and slithered over Demencia and themselves. They sought more and more untouched skin, to her face and fingers and toes, until there was nearly nothing left exposed.

They tightened even more around her body as if trying to devour her whole. Her screaming started to sound like sobs. The sound and the unfettered feeling of her body completely and utterly at his mercy brought Black Hat to the edge.    

With one last plunge, Black Hat's body jerked to a halt. The myriad of peering eyes, insatiable mouths, and invasive tentacles extending from his body all froze in place as he came. It was as if his soul – or lack thereof – was being wrenched from his very core in bursts of earth-shattering bliss.

Demencia twitched and moaned from the near searing heat suddenly coating her insides. She hardly had time to process it before her body spasmed in his grip and the world around her grew dark and cold.

Staring down at her mascara-smudged face, Black Hat's breath came out in heavy, labored sighs. A shimmering, murky haze surrounding an extended hand retreated into nothingness. He lowered it slowly, weakly.

–

He sat at the edge of the bed, adjusting his tie and the collar of his coat, all trace of the monstrosity he'd unleashed gone. He looked to Demencia lying at his side, caked in her own blood and decorated with lesions. She was fast asleep.

This woman he'd ordered experiments on years ago to become a living weapon was the only one who could quell him and live to tell about it. Or rather, the only one who'd live and wouldn't cause him problems later on

And while he didn't shy away from killing, finding a new victim -- consenting or not -- each time was troublesome. It was easier this way. She was willing and eager, and most importantly, didn't care that he was using her. Or was at least delusional enough not to realize it.

He was fully aware that any shred of kindness he showed her she would latch onto as proof he loved her after all. But he supposed that no longer mattered. She would find proof whether he gave it to her or not.

–

When Demencia finally awoke, she found herself wrapped in a soft, warm blanket. As comfortable as she was, the room around her seemed foreign. This wasn't her bedroom. She willed herself to sit up, fighting against the pull of sleep and rubbed at her eyes.

She was in a guest room, she soon realized, and she quickly remembered why.

With a sudden jolt of energy, she looked around, searching for Black Hat, but he was nowhere to be found. Naturally, she was disappointed, but far from surprised – he was always long gone by the time she woke up.

She could see a new set of clothes for her folded at the foot end of the bed, her favorite lizard-head hoodie included. She could never tell if it was the same one or just an exact replica, though it didn't matter either way.

There was a gilded tray on one of the dressers, atop which she could see a domed plate cover. A faint but enticing smell emanated from the source. Though she was still weary and ached for more sleep, she couldn't resist. She draped the blanket over her shoulders like a cape and got to her feet. Looking down, she noticed how clean she was and that the wounds she'd been gifted were already healing. She poked at a few on her belly.

Demencia shuffled over to the tray and lifted the cover –  beneath was a heaping plate of steak, potatoes, gravy, and green beans. Her mouth watered, but before she dug in, she turned her attention to a small folded note and a single black rose.

She picked up the flower and held the petals to her nose, inhaling its scent that would forever remind her of him. She sighed wistfully and picked up the note.

It was perfectly blank on the outside, and on the inside was scribbled just two words, “thank you”, and signed with a tiny top hat.

Demencia squealed as she hugged the note to her chest. It was one of many identical notes she already had, but she would treasure it for as long as she lived, all the same.

Once she left this room, everything would return to normal until the next time he called on her. That was the rule. They were never to speak the truth of their time together, even on pain of death. Not between themselves and most definitely not to anyone else.  

That was the way it was.

But Demencia didn't mind. She would keep their secret, and give her body to him as many times as he wanted. She loved him, after all, and while she couldn't... _didn't_... hide how she longed for a day in which he'd return her feelings, this was enough.

At least for now.


End file.
